


Tell me, Seamus, Did you Ever ...?

by WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-28
Updated: 2014-04-28
Packaged: 2018-01-21 03:38:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 979
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1536194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo/pseuds/WhatWldMrsWeasleyDo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Fergus was two years older than him. Seamus had spent his life running to catch up with Fergus, trying to impress him. He was always a couple of inches taller, a couple of seconds faster, a couple of grades more clever than Seamus.</i><br/>"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm." -- Colette</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell me, Seamus, Did you Ever ...?

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Alcohol, references to het, handjob, swearing, lots of messy come.  
>  I don't think cousins is incest. It's legal to marry and everything, even if you're Roman Catholic, you just need a special dispensation from the Pope. I know it's a debated point, but that's my opinion. Not that any of my cousins are fanciable.  
> Written for hp_cestfest

"Tell me, Seamus, did you ever drink beer before?" Cousin Fergus asked, landing heavily on the sofa beside him.

"Sure, all the time at school," Seamus said confidently and took a long swig out of the bottle.

"Is that right? And what sort of beer would that be?" He gave Seamus a searching look, then added, "Butter beer doesn't count."

"Why not --? Well, of course not. We drink Murphy's mostly."

The two youths sat quietly and watched the family party for a while.

Then Fergus said, "Tell me, Seamus, did you ever drink firewhiskey?"

"Sure. Plenty of times."

Fergus made a shifty survey of the room before slipping a hip flask out of his pocket. Seamus eyed it. He was only sixteen and if they got caught then there would be hell to pay. Nevertheless he sneakily took a gulp. It was rough on the throat, much worse than the beer; he held his breath to try to stop himself from choking.

"Lovely!" he rasped out.

"Lovely is it?" Fergus asked. He took a sip of his own. "Lovely it is," he agreed.

Seamus leaned his head back on the cushions. There was a funny noise in his ears. He blinked.

"You'll be wanting some more then," Fergus stated.

Seamus found himself nodding. As he twisted his shoulder to hide the alcohol from his mam, Seamus caught a whiff of Fergus. As he handed back the flask he inhaled a little deeper than normal. Fergus was two years older than him. Seamus had spent his life running to catch up with Fergus, trying to impress him. He was always a couple of inches taller, a couple of seconds faster, a couple of grades more clever than Seamus. And now that he was working, he was a good few bob richer as well.

"Tell me Seamus, did you ever try Uncle Donal's potcheen?" Fergus belched lightly. He was tapping his foot in time with the fiddlers.

"Sure," Seamus replied, his teeth sticking a little too long on the start of the word.

"He has a barrel of it out in yard somewhere. What say we slip out and have a little search for it?"

It was a stupid and dangerous idea. If the lethally strong home-made booze didn't kill them, then their mothers certainly would.

"That's a grand idea," Seamus replied.

They snuck out into the dark, freezing yard, holding a glass each. Seamus slid on the icy ground, but Fergus caught his arm. The two of them worked their way to upright against each other's bodies, then blinked into each other's faces for a moment before beginning their search.

They found the barrel right enough, and sat on it to sample its contents.

Fergus pulled a face. "Delicious!" he croaked.

"Nectar," Seamus agreed. "Great. Really grand."

"Absholoodley." Fergus blinked then tried again. "Absolutely." They settled back and sipped. "Now," Fergus began in a conversational tone, "young Seamus, tell me, did you ever kiss a girl?"

"Loads. Hundreds."

"Course you did. Handsome young man like yourself. Thousands probably."

Seamus nodded his agreement.

"And tell me, Seamus," Fergus laid his strong, tanned hand on Seamus' knee, "did you ever get your hands up their blouses?"

Seamus gave a dirty chuckle. Then he made the two-handed squeezing gesture which is boy-mime for breasts. Belatedly he nodded.

"Really?" Fergus asked. Then he stared up at the sky and observed, "It's a bit of a disappointment, isn't it?"

Seamus looked at his cousin. Then he looked at the ground. Then he shrugged.

Fergus moved his hand higher up Seamus' leg. "Tell me Seamus, did you ever find yourself looking at any of the other boys in the showers?"

"Erm. Yeah-a-bit." Seamus gave his first truthful reply of the night.

"Did you ever think about their lovely, flat bodies while you were," his hand moved even higher, "you know?"

"Wanking off?" Seamus asked.

"That's the one," Fergus agreed.

"Did you?" Seamus thought it would be best to check, so he'd know what the right answer was.

"All the time," Fergus admitted. "Still do," he added. "And tell me the truth, my favourite cousin, did any of those boys ever," he paused to rub his hand up and down the growing bulge in Seamus' trousers, "help you out a bit."

Seamus' mouth had gone dry. He was finding breathing a chore. He shrugged again.

"Like this?" Fergus clarified, undoing the fly button and sliding his hand in.

"Nuh. Uh. I ... guh! Oh! Mmmm," Seamus said which, while it didn't answer the question, did put a smile on Fergus' handsome face.

Fergus dropped his glass to put a steadying hand round Seamus' waist. He gripped the firm shaft of his younger cousin's cock and pulled up. He did it again and Seamus couldn't muffle his moan. This was so much better than doing it himself! Fergus' movements increased in speed and pressure; he added in a twist of his wrist and a slide of his thumb. Seamus found that he was panting and his head was spinning.

Fergus lowered his mouth to Seamus' soft neck and peppered it with gentle kisses, all the while making his hand movements harder, faster, stronger.

Then Seamus screamed out "Fuck!" and came hot and sticky, firing again and again, over Fergus' hand, over both of their shirts and the inside of his pants, even a little over Uncle Donal's barrel. The two young men stared into each other's faces for long minutes. Then, just as Seamus had started to move his own hand towards the strained fastenings of Fergus' jeans, and Fergus had started to bring his mouth towards Seamus' mouth, they heard the banshee wail of their grandmother:

"Who's that using foul language in the yard? It had better not be who I think it is! I'm coming out there to give you a thick ear each you young hooligans!"


End file.
